We Should Have Used Something Else In The Speech
by Manchester
Summary: It's always best to be careful what you say on the Hellmouth. You never know who's listening.
1. Chapter 1

It was time.

The final battle was about to begin. In the depths of the earth, the Scooby Gang and their allies faced the First Evil and its army of super-vampires and Bringers.

Hands gripped weapons. Dry lips were licked. Sphincters were tightened.

The leaders steadily gazed at each other, with a blonde California Slayer and a monster from beyond time both awaiting for the right moment. Just as these persons opened their mouths to order battle to commence, an unexpected event came to pass.

A stupendous lightning bolt flashed into Sunnydale High, striking the individual voted in his high-school yearbook as "most likely to die from Twinkie overdose."

Alexander LaVelle Harris, whose first word of his life had been a correction of his first name to "Xander!", disappeared from existence, leaving an empty spot marked by a curl of smoke arising from a scorched mark on the school floor.

Surprise, astonishment, shock and horror appeared on the features of all there awaiting for an attack, as Dawn Summers managed to express what everyone was thinking: "Was that supposed to happen?"

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Xander looked around wildly, his axe ready for action, only to bring it down as he found nobody around to hit for bringing him….where?

He was standing in the middle of a featureless void, with the floor of whatever his feet were resting on being the same grayish-white color that extended on and up into the distance. He had no idea if the horizon was miles away or just a couple of yards since everything was the same shade.

There was nothing besides himself in existence. He was totally cut off from his friends when they needed him the most, unable to help at all, absolutely alone--

"Hey, kiddo."

Xander nearly managed to reach escape velocity with his panicked leap, spinning around in mid-air with his axe pointing directly at the person who had said this, when the Sunnydale native landed back on his boots, standing about ten feet from the guy who'd evidently appeared out of mid-air.

The whole posture of this person, much less the twinkle in his eye, showed total amusement at the sight of an one-eyed young man having a mixture of fear, worry and concern on his face and holding a very sharp cutting weapon in slightly shaking hands.

Xander just stood there, staring at the man gazing patiently back at him, until the former carpenter started feeling a little ridiculous, and lowered his axe to his side. The stranger seemed to approve of this, if his sudden smile was any indication, though he had still said nothing since his first greeting, only intently watching the younger (far younger, the guy looked to be in his eighties, at least) man through the thick square glasses that seemed to magnify piercing eyes in the middle of deep laugh-wrinkles. An outfit of a blue windbreaker, a tartan shirt, khaki pants, and loafers, along with a white ship-captain's hat completed the guy's ensemble.

"Uh, hi?" was the only thing Xander could think of to say at the moment.

"Hello, Xander," beamed the old guy, who seemed to be oddly familiar, though Xander could swear he'd never met the man before.

"You know my name? Uh, not to be impolite or anything, but….do I know you? 'Cause, I was about to fight a guy who could turn into people who'd died, but I don't think I've ever met you before…."

"Oh, you've met me. Everybody has, even who you were talking about." The old guy looked a little sad at that.

At the back of Xander's neck, his hairs started prickling at hearing this. Oh, great, more Sunnydale weirdness. He stared hard at the man, trying to remember. Come to think of it, it was in Sunnydale….I was a kid with Willow, but we didn't meet this guy in person….we were watching television….a movie came on that we both liked, a very funny old guy in it….

Xander's axe suddenly dropped from his nerveless fingers, hitting the ground without a sound.

"George Burns!?"

"Nuh-huh-uh!" cautioned the man, waving an admonishing finger. "What kind of momzer do you think I am, separating him from Gracie? No, son, remember the movie."

There was a roaring in Xander's ears, and he had to force himself to open his mouth, as he tried to keep from passing out.

"You're….God."

"More of a manifestation of God, really," the being shrugged (God shrugs?) and eyed the blank-faced man swaying on his feet. An index finger was suddenly pointed at Xander, who stiffened as energy seemingly poured into him, blasting away the descending darkness that had been overwhelming his mind.

"Can't have you fainting on me, son," kindly said the Supreme Being. "Look," He offered, "if it makes you feel better, I can turn into Morgan Freeman or Alanis Morissette, if you want." This came with an inquiring eyebrow, as the Lord waited for Xander to decide.

The man blinked at the courtesy, and said the first thing that came to mind, "She was really hot in the mov--urk!" Xander shut his mouth so hard he almost chipped his teeth, staring with horror at the chuckling being before him.

"Relax, son. I know exactly what you felt while watching Dogma, including your intense concentration during Salma Hayek's dancing in the strip joint. But more importantly, you understood that movies' showing the striving for salvation and redemption." God looked pensive, and then His mood changed to something lighter. "Besides, even Metatron finally accepted being played by Alan Rickman."

In a very quiet voice, Xander said, "Oh."

"Mmm." A faint smile appeared on the Lord's face and he came forward, gesturing at Xander while continuing his stroll, "Walk with me, son."

Xander could do nothing else, as he fell in step with the being at his side, both of them moving forward through the void.

"You're here for a purpose, Alexander," spoke the Lord, as the man sensibly kept his mouth shut. A sudden thought went through the mind of the Sunnydale native, as he wondered if he was just being called by his true first name, or if a hint was being given over what that name meant---

"Yep."

Xander stopped short, as God continued onward another few steps and then halted, turning around to gaze keenly at the young man, while the Supreme Being continued regarding what had been in the mortal's mind.

"It's time for the Protector of Man to do his work. You were brought here for a specific purpose, son. You're going to receive an object of power from Me, and take it back to the world, to use it as you see fit."

A gaping Xander stared at the Lord. "ME!? I….I'm just a kid, a guy, totally normal, human, not brave or a superhero like Buffy---"

"Hey! Who's God here, boychick? You or me?" The faintly irritated look given to Xander by the creator of the universe managed to end the babble of the stunned man. A firm nod was given to acknowledge the silence, as God went on, "I know everything about you, son. All of it, the bad and the good parts. It's what I do."

Despite himself, Xander found himself opening his mouth again to ask, "But what about--," only to stop at seeing all the compassion and sadness that ever existed in the eyes of the being before him.

"Free will exists. That is the only explanation and excuse I can give you, my son."

A humble Xander stood there, until he finally accepted the word of God with a slow nod.

Still, he wouldn't have been the person he was without another question, "Uh, about the whole thing with the Balance and the Powers That Be---"

"THOSE SCHMUCKS!"

Xander found himself on his knees, both hands desperately clasped over his ears, as the outrage of the Almighty rang to the furthest corners of the cosmos.

A hand was held before his eyes and Xander unthinkingly gripped it to be lifted up to his feet. I just got a hand from God, he disbelievingly thought as he looked at the scowling deity, whose face calmed as he looked at the worried mortal before him.

"Sorry, son, I get a little Old Testament thinking about those guys. I entrusted them with the duties of looking after your home, and just a few millennia later, when I next check on them, they're running around making things worse! They were supposed to help, not arrange things for their own benefit! However, I think you'll enjoy this…." At that, the Supreme Being waved a hand, and a scene shimmered into existence before the pair.

Xander stared with disbelief, and then he started chuckling, which turned to deep laughter, and finally actual howls of merriment, finally collapsing to the floor and twitching with mirth as his breath gave out. A smirking George Burns manifestation snapped his fingers and disappeared the picture of a very miserable Whistler, covered in sweat and dust, wearing a Texas Highway Services overall with reflective stripes dazzling bright in 120-degree heat as he walked down a roadway in the most desolate part of that state, scraping up armadillo road-kill.

"And that fella's the lucky one, since he was the lowest guy on the totem pole," snorted God.

"Do I get to see what happened to the others, his bosses, the ones who really screwed us over?" gasped Xander on the floor.

God bestowed a majestic gaze on the faintly giggling mortal. "If you're very, very good."

"Yes, sir!" barked Xander, springing to his feet, standing at attention, bringing his flattened hands together up to his chest in a prayerful attitude, and putting the most devout expression on his face that he could manage.

Rolling His eyes, the Lord put an arm around His impudent child's shoulders and gave him a hug. "Humor is mankind's greatest gift. Just don't push it."

"Yessir," said a more subdued Xander. He watched with interest as the being in front of him turned to the side and pointed his finger at thin air, only mildly surprised by a portal suddenly appearing. The rectangular doorway-sized hole in existence was pure black, preventing him from seeing what, if anything, was inside it. Xander looked at the Supreme Being and found himself under the intent and spectacled gaze of the Creator, who spoke in a sober tone.

"Into that, you must go, and once there, you must make a choice. There are three objects which will be presented to you, and you must select one of these, to aid your friends and all those who dwell on your home. I cannot give you any advice on which to choose. Free will applies, as it has during all your life, and now you have one of the rarest powers in the universe: to make your own decisions."

A submissive Xander deferentially bowed to the Almighty and walked steadily to the portal, not pausing when in front of it, but entering at once without fear. If you couldn't trust the Lord, who could you trust?

He found himself in a small chamber, standing in front of a vertical beam of light that seemed to come from nowhere. His eyes were attracted to the sudden shimmer in the middle of the light, as the first object appeared.

God created all men, but Sam Colt made them equal.

There was no way that sentence could be blasphemous, not here and now. Xander Harris stared at the weapon floating in the air, the famous Colt .45 pistol of the last half of the 19th century, shown with a glittering metal frame and dazzling bone grips. It was right from every single movie, television program, novel, story and comic book of the American West, and Xander knew, in his innermost being, that this particular weapon possessed the entire power of that media. He swayed forward, and heard, he heard:

None will ever outdraw me, I will never miss whatever the target or its distance, what I hit will fall though it be man or other, I will never run empty, I will keep the peace.

Xander blinked, and lifted a hand to wipe away drool from the corner of his mouth, as he saw the gun shimmer back into non-existence. He continued to stare at where the weapon had been, until his patience was rewarded with another flicker of light.

Metal again gleamed in the light, but with a more painful edge. Which was only natural, as the new weapon was the absolute and utmost of edge. Of sharpness, keenness, of all that ever existed of bladed weapons.

A short sword floated vertically in the beam of light, a yard of glistening bright steel ending in a simple cross-hilt that Xander knew would fit perfectly in his grip. This time, he was unsurprised at receiving in his mind a message:

I guard, I protect, I defend, all of man's real and mythic blades am I from Tizona and James Bowies' Alamo knife to Excalibur and Sting, I stand with you against any and all foes, and in the end, I am the sure cure for all ills.

Xander had an actual pang of longing in his heart as the sword disappeared. What could top that?, thought the human, waiting for whatever would come next.

Whatever he imagined, it wasn't that, as Xander gaped at the third and last object.

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Back in the high school in Sunnydale, the last word of Dawn's disbelieving question reached the ears of the furthest Potential, while all of those there unknowingly lived in slowed time. If it worked for Joshua, it didn't need to be fixed.

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Xander Harris cautiously stuck his head out of the portal and gawked at what he was seeing. To be fair, it's not every day you can watch the Creator performing a soft-shoe while singing a 1920's Tin Pan Alley ditty.

"They call her Hard Hearted Hannah,  
The vamp of Savannah,  
The meanest gal in town;  
Leather is tough, but Hannah's heart is tougher,  
She's a gal who loves to see men suffer!  
To tease 'em, and thrill 'em, to torture and kill 'em,  
Is her delight, they say,  
I saw her at the seashore with a great big pan,  
There was Hannah pouring water on a drowning man!  
She's Hard Hearted Hannah, the vamp of Savannah, GA!"

Xander looked down to see his foot tapping along. Well, it was catchy. He looked up to see that he'd now caught the attention of the Supreme Being, who did some fancy footwork to glide towards the human, all while singing, with a big smile on the face of the Lord.

"They call her Hard Hearted Hannah,  
The vamp of Savannah,  
The meanest gal in town;  
Talk of your cold, refrigeratin' mamas,  
Brother, she's a polar bear's pajamas!  
To tease 'em, and thrill 'em, to torture and kill 'em,  
Is her delight, they say,  
An evening spent with Hannah sittin' on your knees,  
Is like travelin' through Alaska in your BVDs."

It was time for the big finish.

"She's Hard Hearted Hannah, the vamp of Savannah, GA!"

Start the last line, spin once around, arms extended, freeze with right arm pointed directly at audience, deliver last note clearly, snap head forward for hat to tumble down atop of right arm, grab hat, flourish, pose, and smile.

Xander applauded enthusiastically. It seemed the thing to do.

George Burns, aka God, the Big Guy, Jehovah, Yahweh, Almighty Father, etc., beamed and replaced his hat to his head, declaiming, "Thank you all! You've been a wonderful audience! I'll be here tomorrow night and the night after that! See you, everybody!"

Pushing back his hat a bit, the Lord became a little more calmer and eyed Xander. "I see you haven't made your choice. Well, that's a choice too, so---"

"NO! No, no, no! I…I just wanted to ask something. Sir."

The Supreme Being waggled a warning finger, the twinkle in his eye offsetting the stern tone. "As you remember, I mentioned I couldn't give any advice. It's up to you to decide what you want."

"Yessir. Understood, sir. But, um, there isn't any possible chance that, well, however it could have happened, something might have, I don't know, maybe gone….wrong?" Xander squeaked out the last word.

An eyebrow came down. The Lord truly knew how to work them, Xander reflected, as rumbles of thunder resounded in the distance.

"Right! I'll be getting back to it! Just takin' a break, which is over!" Xander promptly vanished back into the portal, missing a creator's comment.

"Humans. Not my best work and not my worst, either. But they're certainly my most unique."

In the portal, after much thought, a decision was made.


	2. Chapter 2

In the cavern below Sunnydale, Buffy Summers opened her mouth to yell, "Atta--", only to be interrupted by something that deserved a high position on a list of 'Top Ten Things That Can Only Happen In Sunnydale'. A stupendous lightning bolt flashed into existence there, smashing onto the cavern floor and deafening and blinding everyone there. As Buffy, Faith, Spike and the Potentials frantically blinked their eyes, expecting to see the First Evil and his horde of uber-vampires coming at their throats, the forces of good were staggered at what was instead revealed.

A group of people nobody thought would be showing up were now in front of them. Every person who had been in the school -- Andrew, Anya, Giles, Willow, Dawn, Wood, Kennedy, and other Potentials --- dazedly looked around in increasing panic, only to see the other Scoobies and rushing towards them, joining into one group. Buffy stared in astonishment at one particular individual who really shouldn't have been there.

"Angel! What are you doing here!" she shrieked at the baffled vampire.

Her former lover's head snapped around to stare disbelievingly at the blonde Slayer. He managed to speak, "I don't know! I was on my way to Los Angeles, when I appeared here, and….and….uh, Buffy, are those Turok-Han vampires over there?"

Loud laughter filled the entire cavern. As the heads of the defenders of humanity turned, they all saw a primitive-looking young woman with mud-caked dreadlocks grinning at them, standing in front of a horde of the worst monsters of the world. The First Evil, in the guise of the Primal, the first girl given the powers of the Slayer, laughed uproariously again, finally saying, "I have to admit it, this wasn't what I planned either, but I'm certainly not going to turn it down! I'm bringing all my forces here! Prepare to die!" The villain started to wave its arms as a command to attack, only to pause at a most odd noise.

"Phhhwwweeeeeeeee!" From the left side of the cavern, a certain individual strolled into the light, pulling out of his mouth the two fingers he had used to create the shrill whistle. A really offensive smirk on the man's face accompanied his shout to the First Evil, "Hey, Casper, didn't you ever read the Evil Overlord list, especially the shortest rule? I'm talking about the two-word instructions: Gloat later!"

Willow Rosenberg, who had known the man the longest, said quietly, "Xander."

All there stood frozen, every single individual on either side. It may have been the jarring events putting everyone into paralysis, the fact that a single man was casually walking towards thousands of super-strong monsters, all while keeping an insolent smile in his face, or what really drew everyone's attention.

Xander Harris was carrying on his shoulder something that was the focus of all in the cavern. He didn't have a weapon; to be specific, an instrument designed to injure or kill. What he had was….a shovel.

It was a totally ordinary long-handled scoop, with a wooden handle and a flat metal head that was slightly curved and came to a somewhat blunt point, the same kind found all over in numerous hardware stores and in tens of thousands of suburban backyards, being used for the most prosaic gardening and digging purposes.

Buffy Summers felt as if her brain had just exploded. Shaking her head, the Slayer glanced around her at the other's identical looks of disbelief, and tried to think of something --- anything! --- to do, as Xander got even closer to the unmoving multitude of monsters. One reason these hadn't yet attacked the presumably insane human was the distinct possibility that this was some kind of trick, yet Buffy knew this couldn't last long. She desperately muttered, "Willow, can you---" only to be cut off by another incomprehensible event.

Swinging around, the head of his shovel right in the face of the First Evil, who flinched away the slightest, Xander stood in front of the group of unearthly creatures, coolly showing them his bare back, and shouted at his buddies. "Hey, Buffy, guys, stay there for a couple minutes, okay? I'll be with you as soon as I deal with What's-His-Face and the Little Rascals here."

The complete silence after that was broken only by an incredulous stifled giggle by Willow, who, if she hadn't been totally terrified for her Xander-shaped friend, would have been the first to admit she'd expected nothing less from him.

That sound from the red-haired witch actually carried across the entire chamber and this might have finally been the last straw for the First Evil, who screamed, "KILL HIM!" The closest Turok-Han stepped forward, their fangs and claws ready for slaughter.

Still facing his friends, a wide grin on his face, Xander's right hand slid up the wooden handle he was grasping almost all the way up to the top, and then with a twist of his hand, wrist and arm, he spun the shovel horizontally at chest height, turning his body along with it while also extending his arm to its full length. He finally ended up facing the whole crowd of monsters as the shovel completed half of a full-circle to have the blade of the shovel facing the first uber-vampire who was just a few feet away.

Abruptly, that vampire no longer existed.

It had suddenly turned from a solid seven-foot, half-ton vicious fiend, into nothing more than a cloud of fine ash that was blasted away by an unfelt wind that still struck with tornadic force. This unfortunate vampire wasn't the only one. Behind it, all of the Turok-Han and the Bringers were also destroyed, their only remains shown as a dust cloud for a fraction of a second until this too was torn apart by an immaterial fury of wind.

The good guys watched all this in disbelief, as Xander continued spinning, sweeping the shovel through the air while keeping it directed all along the line of the Turok-Han and the Bringers, both which continued to disintegrate by the thousands. The First Evil looked around wildly, flinching as the shovel passed by it, though there was no seemingly effect on this entity. The vampires and demons directly behind their leader weren't so fortunate, with all of them also crumbling into non-existence. The shovel kept moving on, until it finally reached the left end of the line of the monsters, who dutifully departed from this plane of existence, without even requiring a dustpan.

A woman who had last lived ages ago in primordial times was in total shock. The First Evil, still wearing the form of Primal, stood there, totally alone, all of its followers gone, and stared at the man now leaning on the tool he had spun vertically to drive into the ground and stand upright. There was a truly magnificent insolent smile on this person's face as he opened his mouth while still keeping on grip on the farm implement.

"Observe. Shovel. Not a shovel. The shovel." Xander was careful about the emphasis on his words, as he continued, a maddening grin showing. "What we got here, sport, is a gift from God. Literally, ya know?"

The First Evil slowly began to back up until it stopped at the man's slow shaking of his head. "Uh-huh. My turn to gloat now, at the proper time. This thing," he casually shook the shovel, "is composed of all the shovels that are and ever were, for any loose material -- coal, snow, sand, soil -- in agriculture, construction and gardening, throughout all of humanity's time on this world. From a clump of dirt on the earliest farms to every spadeful needed to dig the Panama Canal, to all of the excavations going on right this minute throughout the entire world. And it can summon up, concentrate, and send on all the force needed throughout all of that, both the work done and the weight lifted. Every single bit of it. Your little pets just got hit with, oh, probably the entire weight of the Himalayas mountain range. Including Mount Everest."

The First Evil stared with horror at the satisfied-looking man across from it. Suddenly, its eyes narrowed, and it shimmered into a new form, beginning to say, "You've still made a mis---"

"HEY! Hey, hey!" shouted Xander, cutting off the First Evil. He stared in puzzlement at the being standing before him. "Who're you supposed to be?"

The scruffy, middle-aged man in a disheveled mid-century suit with sweat stains under the armpits, saggy jowls, increasing baldness, and beady eyes, glowered at Xander, and shaking a sheet of paper at him, the stranger blustered, "I'm Senator Joseph McCarthy!"

The young man just looked incredulous and then frowned, tilting his head to examine his enemy's current form. "Uh, I think I slept through that class. Am I supposed to be scared of you?"

On the other side of the cavern, an Englishman closed his eyes and muttered, "Dear Lord….," abruptly stopping and wondering if he should discontinue saying that, considering what had happened.

Glaring at Xander, the First Evil shimmered again, from the Wisconsin senator into a new form. A look of evil satisfaction appeared on the face of the young teenager now standing there at seeing how Xander's face had frozen into tight-lipped fury.

"Hey, bro," drawled Jesse McNally, smirking at how Xander's fist tightened around the top of the shovel, but with the one-eyed young man otherwise making no other move at the manifestation of his best friend for most of Xander's life until the Scooby member had staked his blood-brother after he'd become a vampire.

Now hugely enjoying himself, the First Evil went on, "As I began to say, you've still made a mistake. So what if my forces are gone now? I'll just try again in the future, in another way, and you won't be able to stop me. Your little toy," the teenager's voice changed to deep disdain, "might have carried the day for now, but it didn't affect me."

Xander's lips drew back in a mirthless smile. "Because you can't be touched. You're immaterial. Insubstantial. Between."

"Gee, bro, you swallowed a thesaurus? 'Course, that wasn't all you swallowed, when you were with that little former-demon bitch over there," sneered the First Evil, waving his arm at the group helplessly witnessing the confrontation between man and monster. Anya blushed, and looked down as others shifted to glance at her. There was a great difference between her saying something like that, and another doing it just to hurt Xander.

The First Evil inwardly exulted, as Xander clearly snapped. A look of rage on his face, the man jerked up the shovel out of the ground and flipped it up to hold it horizontally, the blade of the shovel pointing right at the amused fiend, as Xander took a step forward and thrust the blade directly at the First Evil.

This being held stock still, arrogantly expecting the farm tool to simply pass through its intangible form and gleefully looking forward to further taunting the mortal who had dared to oppose him. It looked down, waiting for the failure of the attack.

The shovel drove into its chest and stayed there.

The First Evil blinked. For the first time in its existence, it felt….pain.

Swaying, the monster slowly lifted its head and looked at the man at arm's length from it, receiving a steady gaze from Xander holding firmly with both hands the handle of the shovel, pitilessly keeping it embedded in the form of a being as old as the world, whose time had finally come.

"Between, remember? This thing stuck in you isn't just a weapon. It's a tool, and it's been used to turn up the soil of this world to plant farms and gardens, to bring new life and nourishment for humanity. And when the time comes for humanity to depart this world….this has been used to dig the graves to reverently bury the bodies of those who were loved. This shovel's absorbed all that. Life and death, sucker. Between."

The First Evil might have crumbled to the ground, if it wasn't still held up by the man's tool, as Xander bent forward to whisper into the monster's face now realizing it was actually facing death. "You really shouldn't have turned into Jesse, 'cause I'm gonna make this hurt."

At that, Xander leaned back up, and with a set face, he viciously twisted the shovel.

The form of the being that had named itself the First Evil, the ultimate Big Bad, convulsed, and it burst into light that exploded throughout the entire chamber, forcing all there to shield their eyes. Only Xander kept his gaze open throughout it all, narrowly watching to witness extinction. No comebacks, no sequels, no last-minute escapes. Not for this villain. He had pissed off Alexander LaVelle Harris, the Protector of Man.

After a few moments, the Scooby Gang and its friends, associates and acquaintances brought down their hands from their eyes and blinked away the last of the after-images, to see a lone Xander coming towards them across the cavern floor, a goofy grin on his face, with a jaunty walk, and a shovel held over his right shoulder.

When the one-eyed man reached his friends, he stopped before them, casually bringing down the shovel to rest vertically with the point touching the ground, and looked around the flabbergasted people, asking mock-seriously, "No hug?"

Later, nobody there could decide whether Willow or Dawn got to him first, though they all agreed that despite their overwhelming emotions, both females were careful not to touch the shovel during their embraces. The man just stood there, keeping one hand on the end of the shovel, while using his other hand to squeeze hard his bestest bud, listening with a wide grin to the babble of the women hugging him that was gradually overpowered by the uproar of the others.

Men and women crowded around him, some patting his back and shoulder, others just touching him in awe, shock, or curiosity, and beginning to ask, "What happened?"

Of course, there were exceptions to this. At one side of the crowd, a man furiously polished his glasses.

At the other side of the crowd, two beings stood by each other, who had both lost their humanity far in the past. The blonde of the pair looked with disgust at the crowd surrounding a young man, and sneered, "Bleedin' hell, poofter, there'll be no livin' with the whelp after this. I was supposed to be the soddin' Champion, not him, that snack-fetchin' wanker who never had the balls to go after Buffy---"

"Spike. Shut up," said Angel tightly. "I think he heard you." Sure enough, Xander had looked over, his face becoming immobile as his gaze settled on the two vampires. The man gently disentangled himself from his two friends and began to move through the crowd, who fell back from his path. He still carried the shovel as he approached Spike and Angel.

"Oh, I'm shakin' in my boots, here comes Mr. Screams-Like-A-Girl, who faints at a little blood," growled Spike, not lowering his voice the slightest. Still standing by Angel, the English vampire watched how Xander was looking the former native of Ireland in the face, and put on his own face his most contemptuous sneer.

Xander reached the two demons and came to a stop.

The shovel flickered twice, moving too fast even for vampire reflexes.

In the future, various reminiscences took place among those girls who had been chosen as Potential Slayers and were pursued by the First Evil's minions, in many cases seeing their loved ones being murdered, and needing to flee to Sunnydale for protection against monsters, only to find out that their defender, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, had in the past allowed herself to fall in love with a vampire, an action that had caused the deaths of numerous humans, and was now herself living and sleeping with another vampire. Who, while under the influence of the First Evil, had slaughtered a dozen of their friends, and escaped any punishment whatsoever over this. He didn't even say he was sorry.

One of the fondest Sunnydale memories for these girls would be over the fact that as Spike's severed head tumbled through the air for a second until it turned to ash, it still retained his sneer.

Another high point was seeing Angel completing nearly a full half-somersault before landing on his head and shoulders, his handsome face disfigured by being smashed with the flat of the shovel.

"NOOOOOO!!!!!" screamed Buffy, dashing through the stunned crowd, to reach Xander standing smirking before a solid vampire lying stunned on the ground and an ashy vampire drifting through the air. The Slayer grabbed the man by his shoulder, spinning him around and shrieking in his grinning face, "Why'd you do that!??"

"Hey, Buffster," Xander jovially greeted the Slayer and then looked thoughtful, as he jerked a thumb towards the spot where two vampires had been and now there was one. "Could you be a little more specific about your question?"

A shocked Buffy took a step back, trying to organize her whirling thoughts, and then she blurted out, "Wh…why did you kill Spike?"

Behind Xander, most of the crowd had come up, including Dawn, Faith and all of the Potentials. He ignored them to stare evenly at Buffy, before saying flatly, "I didn't kill anybody, Buffy. I ended the existence of a monster. William Pratt died over a hundred years ago."

"His name was Spike! He had a soul!"

The man tilted his head, looking impassively at the furious woman before him. "You really want to refer to someone who got his nickname using railroad spikes to torture people? Have you even seen a railroad spike? They're not thumbtacks! They're about a half-foot rod of solid iron, twice as wide as your thumb! I suppose you never even thought about the damage they can do to a human body, used by someone with vampire strength and enjoying what they were doing to innocents!"

Xander turned away from a taken-aback Buffy to look with compassion at a stricken Dawn, continuing, "Dawn, the only thing worse than calling that piece of shit his name was when I heard what he called you. I wanted to vomit and then stake him on the spot."

In her shock and grief, Dawn looked bewildered and murmured, "What's so wrong about---"

"Niblet?" gagged Xander. "It means a small piece of food. Dawn, he ate children."

Looks of disgust appeared throughout the crowd, as Dawn dissolved in tears, to be gathered up by Anya who glowered at Xander as the former demon took the crying young woman to the side of the crowd.

Turning his attention back to Buffy glaring at him, Xander went on, "As for the soul part, yeah, he had one. So did Hitler, Stalin, Pol Pot and the guy who shot the convenience store manager over at the mini-mart at Broadway and Eleventh last month. I used to get coffee there and we talked. He had two kids. Now he's dead, and the guy who murdered him is walking free, with his soul."

At that, even Buffy looked a little off-balance, but she rallied. "Sp---, he went through what you can't imagine, getting his soul!"

Xander said grimly, "He got his soul just because of you, Buffy. And maybe Dawn, a little. As for the rest of the world, and all of his victims that he tortured and murdered, he didn't care the slightest." The man grimaced, and reluctantly admitted, "But you're right. He got his soul of his own free will."

Buffy was surprised at that, and how sour-faced Xander was as he continued, "That means he didn't go straight to Hell. Not that he escaped completely. Right now, he's in Purgatory, until he sincerely regrets his actions, all of them, and begs for forgiveness, however long it takes. Eternity, I hope. Or, he can return to this world," Buffy brightened up at this, only to sober at Xander's next words, "to spend numerous lifetimes as other beings in his redemption. In any case, we're never going to see him again. Which thrills me right down to my socks---"

At that moment, an interruption was caused by someone getting to their feet, realizing they had a broken nose, a split lip, and several teeth missing, and screaming at Xander: "Go n-ithe an diabhal do cheann! Go gcreime cúnna ifrinn do bhall fearga!"

A truly pissed-off Angel took a deep breath, ignoring a startled Buffy to step right up to Xander, nearly chin-to-chin (since the Irishman swearing in Gaelic now had his nose bent over flat on his face), and delivered a last curse at the top of his lungs: "Go salaí na gráinneoga cealgrúnacha do chuid buí sneaic!"

The man blinked, and looking at where he was holding the shovel with his right hand, he softly said in astonishment, "Well, whaddya know, I understood that." Bringing back his gaze into the furious face before him, the Sunnydale native continued in an extremely dangerous tone, "Especially the last one."

Xander's right knee shot up and buried itself into Angel's groin.


	3. Chapter 3

Smartly stepping aside, Xander waited until Angel was doubled over as far as he could go, his head nearly down to thigh level, swaying on his feet, and then the man put his palm on the top of Angel's head (grimacing at the feel of hair gel), and shoved back. The formerly-handsome vampire toppled onto his side.

"XANDER!"

This named person looked up to see a female fist coming right at his face, delivered with Slayer power. Xander had no time to dodge the furious punch from Buffy Summers. However, he didn't need to.

Smack! The blonde Slayer's fist was caught just a few inches from Xander's face in the palm of the other Slayer there. For an instant, both Buffy and Faith stood frozen, until the California native wrenched her hand free and screamed at the dark Slayer, "Get out of my way, Faith! I'm gonna tear him to pieces!"

"YOU CALL YOURSELF A SLAYER!?" This was delivered by Faith with all the power of her lungs. She urgently continued, "Buffy, look and listen at Angel, with everythin' you have!"

A startled Buffy was taken aback by the only thing that might have stopped her. Bewildered, she looked down at the person curled up on the cavern floor, at the exact moment when Angel turned his head on the ground and started puking.

From the crowd came an unanimous feminine "Ewwwww!", along with a comment from Amanda, one of the Potentials there, loud enough to carry to everyone, "That's the guy she picked to be her first?"

Shooting a searing glance at the young girl that promised serious consequences for that, Buffy knelt down besides Angel (on the other side from his mouth) and tried to find somewhere to hold him where it didn't hurt. She noted his gasping for breath during his emptying his stomach, the flush in his cheeks, the---

Buffy Summers stiffened in shock. As directed by Faith, she now used all of her Slayer senses. She heard the breath moving through Angel's lungs, she listened to the rapid heartbeat of her former lover, and as she cradled Angel's head in her cupped hands, she felt the warmth of his skin. Her head snapped up to look directly into Xander's eyes as he leaned on his shovel, a genuinely caring smile on his face. He nodded.

"Yep, Buffy, he's human. Totally. No more Angel or Angelus again, ever. Meet Liam Ryan." At that, Xander moved forward, lifting up his shovel as he went. Buffy's face tightened, as she shifted her body to shield Angel (no, Liam) from her friend, who stopped and rolled his eye.

"Relax, Buffy. I'm not gonna hurt him any more." At that, Xander snickered. "Actually, all he had to do was to touch the shovel to become human again. Me hitting him right in the face was just payback for the setup with Faith, when he clobbered me and left me in the street for hours at night. In Sunnydale. Why didn't he just put a buffet sign on me?"

The American glowered down at the man looking up with astonishment at him, and growled, "As for the knee in the 'nads, I figure that settles everything else, as long as he remembers I can kick his ass anytime he wants to bring it on. Me, seven years going up against vampires and other demons. Him, he's just a pretty-boy human, now."

"Are you still going to insult me forever?" came the rasping voice of the man lying in Buffy's arms. He painfully got up on his feet, with the Slayer's help.

Xander grinned. "Oh, you betcha. Now, hold still." As he said this, the man slid his right hand down the shaft of the shovel to lift it up to point the blade directly at Liam's face, who recoiled.

Again, Xander looked exasperated and held up his left hand in a peculiar salute while reciting, "I swear by the Junior Woodchucks' Oath, as an Exalted Hightail, Chevalier of the Honor Guard, Rear Admiral of the Arctic Snows and fellow Commandant of the Hightails' Hall of Heroes, that I won't hurt him in any way during the next three minutes. After that, I'm getting cranky."

From where Willow was standing, came her advice, interspersed between fits of giggles, "Go ahead, Buffy, Ang---, I mean, Liam. He won't break the Junior Woodchucks' Oath."

Two identical bewildered glances were sent towards the redhead grinning at the pair, and then they both looked at the waiting man. Hesitant nods of acceptance were made, and Xander carefully brought the point of the shovel against the forehead of the nervous Liam. Barely touching the skin, Xander skillfully drew a cross, while murmuring, "In nomine patri."

A soft light appeared over the Irishman's features, as all there watched in astonishment as his face healed perfectly, looking once again as handsome as before, as the light faded again. Liam stared in amazement at a satisfied-looking Xander, unconsciously taking Buffy's hand in his own, as his face paled nearly to what it had been as a vampire, repeating, "'In the name of the father….' Xander, where did you get that shovel?"

Xander sighed, and opened his mouth to start talking.

********************************************************************************

"….and so, I figured what was different for the third object. Oh, the gun and the sword could have been used as a crude hammer and a knife and axe, but they were really weapons. Only the shovel was a real tool, to be used to build things, not to destroy them." Xander finished his story, beaming around at the fascinated crowd.

A quiet voice came from Giles' position. "They will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks."

Xander's grin widened, pushing up the eyepatch covering his missing eye. "Right, G-man. See, while the gun and the sword could have beaten the First Evil, no question about that, then what? Was I supposed to use them again and again and again, going on and on against evil, without any kind of break? Like the Slayers?" His gaze passed over the two women standing quietly in the crowd, one at the side of a dark-haired man and one by herself who winked at Xander. With a grin, Xander winked back, and continued.

"No, the only thing that made sense was to think about the future. So, well, I picked this," he shifted the shovel over his shoulder, "and I left the portal to see what the Big Kahuna thought about it."

A disbelieving question came from Robin Wood. "He still looked like George Burns? A white guy?"

A shrug came from Xander. "Hey, if it makes you feel better, He did say he could look like Morgan Freeman if I wanted."

A look of pain flashed over the high school principal's face, as he muttered, "Great, a Jim Carrey movie…."

Xander and a lot of the crowd snickered at this. However, Xander soon sobered and looked around at all of those in the cavern. A serious expression on his face, he spoke, "Guys, after that, I had a last…. discussion with, well, you know who. And now, it's time for the future. All of you, pay attention."

The crowd stirred, made a bit nervous by these words, and carefully watched as Xander lifted the shovel head to his face. Numerous mouths dropped open as the man did something no-one there thought would happen. He brought up his left hand to the strap of his eyepatch, and digging a thumbnail under this strap, he pulled off that covering.

A lot of people winced and looked away at what was revealed, the still raw wound and the crater in Xander's face vivid in its awfulness. Keeping an even expression, Xander brought the edge of the shovel blade to over his missing eye, and tapped it once against his face. Again, a soft light appeared for a few moments before disappearing, with Xander giving a deep sigh of relief.

Willow pushed forward to look anxiously at the man's injury. She gasped, "Xander, it's still gone!"

"I know, Wils," said the man, carefully rubbing around his missing eye. "But it feels a lot better now."

Willow blinked at this, and she looked more carefully at his wound, just before Xander replaced the eyepatch. Wondering, she realized that instead of raw flesh barely healing, there was inside his eye-socket faded scar tissue that looked as if it had been there for years.

Xander cleared his throat, and a blushing Willow stepped back, allowing him to look around the fascinated crowd. "What happened is a kinda symbol. Things are gonna be different, a lot for the better, but there are things that can't change." He pointed his left index finger at his covered left eye and went on, "I lost an eye in the vineyard. There's no way that can be changed. Not even by Him." No one in the crowd was ignorant of who Xander was talking about.

"However, I can heal it right now, and it doesn't mean that in the future I can't see again, in some way. Magic, a cyborg eye, cloning, whatever. It all comes down to what's now and what will be. The future, like I said."

As the crowd somberly considered this, Xander looked around, total compassion shining out of his remaining eye. "I got from Him a lot of power, in part from the changes coming from fixing the Pricks that Bumbled's mistakes. Like, Buffy, from what happened to you after we fought Glory."

Standing there in the crowd now craning their heads to look at the Slayer, Buffy Summers gaped at her friend and stuttered, "I….I was in heaven…."

Xander slowly shook his head and said kindly, "You were in a good place, I'll grant that, but only because those total assholes put you there, just because they didn't like one of their toys getting away. Sorry, Buffy, but do you really think that Willow could drag someone out of heaven? There's no way a simple human, no matter their magic level, could do that. No offense, Wils."

"None taken," croaked Willow Rosenberg, looking a bit ashen. A concerned look on her own face, Kennedy stepped up beside the witch and hesitantly offered her hand, smiling in delight as the redhead grasped it for comfort. The two women continued listening to Xander going on, still holding hands.

"Not to mention just how all of us acted after that. Just how did we ever think Buffy was in a hell dimension, and not even check? Or not bothering to consider what she might be like if we succeeded? Or even just going to where she was buried and doing the spell there? It's like we were total idiots then….or maybe, something else was there, who were totally arrogant and unthinking of any misuse of their powers….Yeah, them." Xander turned his head away from the crowd, and noisily spat at the ground.

Buffy found herself shivering, as she went over in her mind all that had happened to her the last several years, and found too much unexplainable, unless someone or something had been manipulating her. No, not just her, but virtually everyone around her.

Strong male arms closed around her, and she went into them, embracing hard the hugger until she heard a muffled sound of pain. Buffy looked up to see Liam struggling for breath and wincing. The Slayer hastily let go, only to have the Irishman's face change into a wide smile as his own grip tightened and he bent down to whisper, "Think of me as a piece of Irish china, lassie."

Buffy stifled a laugh, and hugged him once more, this time a bit more gently and carefully. They started to listen to Xander again.

"If the kids in back have stopped groping---" The entire crowd roared, looking at a blushing Buffy and Liam. With a wide grin on his face, Xander said, "Like I said, I was given power, though there are limits."

As the crowd watched, Xander lifted the shovel and gently tapped his left wrist once with the blade. An instant later, something appeared around that part of his body. It resembled a piece of strange jewelry the width of a watchband, where a miniature human hand with a wrist was clasping the wrist of another hand before it, with this going on again and again, in an interlocking chain of hands completely around his left wrist. As Xander brought his left hand up to eye level, a single tear trickled from his right eye, as he whispered, "Hey, bro."

Nobody in the crowd noticed this. They were all reacting to what had appeared on their wrists. Everybody.

Buffy and Dawn: "Mom!"

Willow: "Tara!"

Liam: "Kathy!"

Andrew: "Jonathan!"

Anya: "Edda!"

Giles: "Jenny!"

And so it went, as everyone in the crowd spoke the name of those they loved and who had loved them, before they had gone to the undiscovered country. Finally, an awe-stricken crowd looked at Xander, who quietly looked back. Before anyone could speak, it was the man who opened his mouth.

"This is a gift. The dead can't be summoned from their side of eternity, but they watch and wait until we too cross over, and this is a reminder to never forget they still love us, with all their spirit. As you've felt."

Willow looked up from Kennedy's band, to stare at her Xander-shaped friend. "They're not really here, are they?"

The man looked calmly at the witch. "You've still got Tara's pillowcase on your bed. She picked it, she chose to put it on your bed, she slept on it, cried on it, laughed on it, dreamed on it. Does the fact that she's no longer here change anything about that, or that she loved you, whatever happened?" He lifted up his own band, staring at it with an intense expression. "I can remember now how Jesse and I shared a crib. That'll do, 'til we meet again."

"Remembrance," quietly said Giles, running a finger over the feminine hands holding tight to his wrist.

"Got it in one, Giles." Startled, the Englishman looked up at Xander smiling at him. After a moment, the Sunnydale native cleared his throat, saying to the crowd, "There's more. Willow, Buffy, Faith, could you come up here?"

Exchanging wondering looks, the three women stepped forward, as the others let go or made way for them. They stood a bit nervously before Xander, watching as he flipped the shovel to a horizontal position, holding it just above the blade, leaving nearly all of the wooden shaft in front of the trio. He spoke again, watching the women who'd affected his life the most over the last seven years.

"Ladies, we had a plan to create more Slayers. I have to tell you, someone else thought that was a good idea. Just not the way we were gonna do it. Now that the First Evil's gone, there's no need to turn all of the Potentials here into Slayers, much less all of them worldwide, at the exact same moment. Which I'm really glad about. Not only would we have wrecked a lot of people's lives --- think about your asylum stay, for example, Buffy --- but the bad guys would have sensed it and targeted a lot of the new Slayers before we could get to them, if we ever did."

The three women before him had various expressions of horror, embarrassment and dismay. Xander nodded and resumed, "So, what we're gonna do is to take it slow. Touch the handle, please." When nobody's arms moved, Xander rolled his eye, and said in irritation, "It won't hurt you!"

Naturally, Faith was the first to reach out and grasp the handle, smirking at the others when nothing happened to her. Buffy was next, and finally Willow, with all of them now looking at Xander, who just shrugged, "It's done."

As the three women looked in shock at the man, yells and shouts of surprise came from the crowd, all of these from a lot of the Potentials. Kennedy was one of these and with a disbelieving look on her face, she reached out for Andrew, who was next to her. Before the young man could do anything, a female hand had wrapped around his throat and proceeded to lift him at arm's length up in the air, totally without effort.

Xander shouted, "Kennedy, put him down! He's breakable!"

Her head snapping around to look at Xander, Kennedy thoughtlessly relaxed her grip, and winced at hearing the thump! of Andrew hitting the ground with her newly-sensitive hearing. She looked down, feeling sheepishness mixed with her feelings of elation, at the young man now splayed out on the cavern floor and staring up at her with awe. "You're a Slayer now," he whispered. "A real hero!"

Feeling her face heat up, Kennedy smiled at the geek, who despite his shown fear had come along with them to fight against monsters, and told him, "So are you." She laughed at his stunned expression and carefully extended a hand for him to pull himself up. She felt only the faintest strain doing this, and whooped aloud, letting go once Andrew was up to dash away from the crowd, as others also did this, running at full speed throughout the cavern.

Xander grinned at the newly-created Slayers' antics, also enjoying the bemused expressions of the three women with him. His grin grew wider as he heard Faith's comment to Buffy, "Looks like we're not the two and only anymore, B."

Buffy shook her head, saying, "You can say that again….F."

"F? What kinda name is that, anyways?"

"I've got a name, a full one. Call me Buffy….Faith."

"Fair 'nuff….Buffy."


	4. Chapter 4

Chuckling over this, Xander's attention was diverted by a punch to his shoulder, delivered by Willow, who at his questioning look, nodded over at where Giles was approaching with several of the Potentials, all of who had anxious expressions on their faces. Xander sobered at this, knowing what was coming. He held up a hand when these people stopped before him.

"I know, guys. But everybody needs to hear this." At that, Xander put his fingers in his mouth, pausing just long enough to Willow to stick her own fingers into her ears, and then he blasted a shrill whistle through his lips that carried to the other side of the immense cavern, much less to his sides where two women were holding their ears and glaring at him. Xander edged slightly away from a pair of ticked-off Slayers with abused hearing and looked around as the newer Slayers quickly rushed back to the crowd to stand listening intently.

"Guys, as you can see, some of you became Slayers and some of you didn't. That's because instead of the really random and crappy way the Powers that Be tossed around the Slayerness, or however you want to call it, right now the Slayer power is being bestowed the right way. In short, the only way now for any girl to become a Slayer is if they really want to be one. They have to know, right down to their souls, despite all the dangers, risks and perils, that they can and will stand against the dark, to protect us all."

Xander looked around, seeing various expressions on the faces of those who hadn't become Slayers: some relieved, others angry or ashamed, and went on in a firm voice. "Don't think this means you're a coward, afraid, a failure, or anything denigrating. It's simply not in your nature. Look, if you got a free ride to college on the condition you became a firefighter, test pilot, Army helicopter crew in Iraq, or any other totally dangerous job where you have a really good chance of getting killed, a lot of you would just say, no thanks, I'll find some other way. And it would be what's best for you."

A hesitant hand came up from one of the non-Slayer girls. He mentally identified her as Rebecca and nodded encouragingly for her to start talking. "Uh, Xander, how can we really be sure? I mean, now that we're not going to die right this minute from the First, I keep thinking I'm glad to be alive, and I'm not sure about fighting against monsters, and I just want to go home….but some of us don't have homes anymore, even if we're not Slayers, and some, seeing what the other new Slayers can do, want to be like them, and uh….well, like, how do we decide?"

It took Xander's years of experience of being around a babble-mistress like Willow to decipher all this. As he glanced around, he noted with amusement, the blank expressions of those still trying to work out everything the girl had said. A faint smile on his face, the man looked at a waiting Rebecca, and said reassuringly, "There's a way to settle that, Rebecca. Buffy, could you come over here?"

A startled Buffy Summers looked up at Liam, whose arms she had returned, only to have him shrug in bafflement and let go of her. At that hint, she warily walked over to Xander and turned around to face the crowd at his twirling-finger gesture. She felt him step up behind her and stifled her surprised twitch as his left hand came to rest on top of her right shoulder as he began speaking.

"All of you, this is the bravest woman I've ever met or ever will. For years, she was the only Slayer in the world, and she fought on, against the worst monsters on earth, doing things that crushed her soul, despite knowing her ultimate fate." Buffy's eyes widened, and her chest swelled in pride, just before Xander finished with, "And she went only a little crazy."

The man took his hand off the woman's shoulder and stepped in front of the Slayer giving him the evil eye, continuing to speak in the most serious of tones. "The reason that Buffy finally broke down was the fact that there was no way to stop being the Slayer. She longed to have someone take over, to once again live a normal life, to love somebody and spend her entire life with them with all that came with it: a home, children, growing old together in peace. Well, now it can happen."

Xander held up his shovel in the air, and spoke to all there, "Not only can any potential Slayer touch this and become a Slayer, if they really want to be one, but also any Slayer can touch this and turn back into a normal human, if they really want to do that. However, it can be done only once. Human into Slayer, and Slayer into human, one time for each." Xander turned to look at Buffy, and presented the handle to her, bowing in respect. "If you want, you can make your choice now."

A stunned Buffy Summers stared at Xander, and then at Liam, who looked at her in identical astonishment. Her gaze fell on the innocent looking shovel in front of her, and she actually backed up, stuttering, "I….I….Xander, you bastard!"

A snort was made by the man standing in front of the Slayer, "Gee, that'd be nice, knowing for sure I wasn't an actual member of the Harris family." He put on a more compassionate look on his face, and said gently, "Buffy, if you can't decide right away, it doesn't mean you have to do it right now. You can think about it, take your time, discuss it with mister clár éadain here---"

"Who?" asked a bewildered Buffy, who was answered by a weary voice.

"It means forehead, Buffy," sighed Liam, who shot a puzzled look at Xander. "Since when do you know Gaelic, anyway?"

"Not me, this." Xander shook his head as he shifted the shovel in his hand to peer at it. "I think the gift of tongues came along with it, which was very thoughtful of the Big Guy, considering what I'm going to have to do with it."

"What would that be?" said Giles at the forefront of the crowd listening with interest.

"That's coming up later, Giles," reassured Xander. He looked around, adding, "Uh, will the Potentials who didn't become Slayers come up here, please?"

With nervous glances among themselves and very hesitant movements, these women lined up before Xander, who brandished the shovel and held it out for the handle to be touched. "Step right up, folks. It'll be all over before you can say one-two-three!"

The first girl in the line rolled her eyes and tentatively reached to touch the handle. The only thing to happen was that Xander nodded, "Okay, next."

"What!? I didn't feel anything!" blurted out the girl, staring at the shovel.

"I did. Once you touched it, I could feel that you honestly don't want to be a Slayer. Isn't that right?"

The girl slowly nodded her head, and admitted, "I already decided that a few minutes ago. I just wanted to, well…."

"Be sure," finished Xander, smiling kindly at the girl. "And you are now, right?" At the girl's agreement, the man spoke up to the watching crowd, "This is totally honest, guys. You can't fool yourself or do anything you don't want to. Ever. Okay, next." The first girl, a bit subdued, walked away from the line and continued watching the other girls step forward for their turns.

The next two girls became Slayers, with the last one yelping in shock after her transformation, "But I didn't want to change!"

The crowd stilled at that, watching Xander carefully looking at the girl and saying, "A good part of you did want to, honey. I felt that. But don't worry, if you ever change your mind enough to really want to stop being a Slayer, you can come to me and end it then. Just keep in mind that way, it's permanent. You'll be a human then, forever."

"O--okay, Xander," muttered the girl, going off while still looking a little unsure.

Finally, the choices were made, with about a third of the former Potentials now new Slayers. Xander cast a glance at a couple of girls who hadn't become warrior women, but had instead drifted off to stand together in a forlorn group. He cleared his throat, and shouted, "GILES --- FRONT AND CENTAAAH!"

"I should have never let you watch my tape of Zulu," muttered Giles under his breath as the Englishman walked forward during the quiet snickering of the crowd. The older man cocked an eyebrow at the boy he considered an adopted son as he stopped in front of Xander.

"You're lucky I didn't call out 'you horrible man, you'," muttered back Xander. A big grin on his face, he asked his father-in-heart, "Just turn around, will you?"

A slightly wary expression on his face, the older man shuffled to face the crowd, casting a suspicious look over his shoulder at the smirking man. A moment later, he felt a tap behind him on a certain part of his body.

Blinking in surprise, Giles let his right arm fall down and back to touch the right back pocket of his tweed trousers. A very amused voice told him, "Check your wallet, G-man. You know, you're the only one here with that, and I have to ask, Why? I mean, what were you going to do, produce it when the Apocalypse was carded?"

Giles rolled his eyes at the snickers of the crowd and pulled out his leather wallet. Holding it in his hand, the Englishman cleared his throat, and murmured, "Xander, is there a point to this?"

A cheerful voice answered, "Well, yeah, I was more than willing to do it for fun….Okay, okay! Just check for anything new in there, will you?"

A frown on his face, Giles methodically went through the papers, cards, and all else, to have a look of puzzlement appear on his features at finding a folded piece of paper that he could have sworn he hadn't had in there before. He pulled it out, holding it in the other hand while replacing his wallet, before unfolding it and staring in bewilderment at the paper. Instead of any writing, there were half-a-dozen columns of numbers, which looked to be totally random.

As Giles was staring at the paper, he heard Xander call, "Wils, could you come here?" The Englishman looked up to see the redhead walking towards him, holding hands with one of the Slayers. Giles wasn't bothered by that, only feeling quiet pleasure that Willow was finally getting over Tara's death and finding happiness with another.

There was a curious look on the witch's face as she came up and she heard Xander's next command, "Giles, give the paper to her. See, Wils, it just happened, not planned at all, no sir, total mistake, someone slipped up….but, well, somehow a copy of the Watchers' Council records that showed the numerical passwords to all of the accounts in banks worldwide where that organization hid away their cash for a rainy day has just turned up in Giles' wallet. Can ya believe it?"

Giles, Willow, and Kennedy watched Xander have an attack of the giggles for a few moments, until they started smiling themselves. Willow managed to ask, "I guess maybe you want me to hack into these accounts and transfer them to Giles here, right?" Xander nodded at her, still unable to speak during his mirth. The witch looked at the paper and frowned thoughtfully, muttering, "Doesn't look like any problems….wait. Xander?" The man looked at her expectantly, beginning to calm down. "Do you know just how much is in these accounts?"

Xander drew himself up, an injured expression on his face, "Now, how could I possibly know that? But….we could play a little game here, called Guess the Numbers. I'll go first." He frowned and then his brow cleared and he looked with a gleam in his eye at his friends. "Let's see, I'm guessing, in American dollars, right now….three billion, eight hundred twenty-seven million, six hundred forty-seven thousand, three hundred twenty-two dollars, and seventeen cents." He glanced at his thunderstruck friends and admitted, "But, I could be wrong. It might be eighteen cents."

Somewhat hoarsely, Giles managed to murmur, "Indeed. It seems like a good guess, though I'm afraid I'll be too busy with other things to continue to play the game…."

"Yeah." Xander's face was more serious now. "You're going back to England and rebuilding the Watchers' Council. Now that somehow a truly large lump of cash has fallen into your pocket, I don't think you'll have any trouble keeping anybody there in line as long as you remind them of the Golden Rule in its monetary form: who has the gold, makes the rules."

A grin suddenly appeared on Rupert Giles' face that showed "Ripper" was going to come out and play. "Quite. The budgetary meetings should be most short."

"Decent salaries for the Watchers and the Slayers would be a good start, right, G-man? Geez, when I remember that sleazy motel Faith stayed in…."

"Absolutely," spoke Giles, a pang of guilt in his mind over how he had failed the dark Slayer.

"Oh, by the way…." Xander trailed off, nodding at the small group of sad girls who were watching them. "Giles, have you checked under your bed lately?"

"What!?" Giles stared at Xander in disbelief, noticing the serious expression in that man's face.

"Well, we've all been busy, busy….but, I think that if you do take a look there, you'll find a box filled with passports for all the girls over there, and also legal authorizations from any remaining relatives putting them in your charge, and any other stuff they need for them to move to London and do whatever they want --- work for the new Watchers' Council, go to school, travel, do what they need to have a new and hopefully happy life --- It'll all be there. Not all of the lawyers go to Hell."

Giles watched the compassionate smile on Xander's face as he looked at the girls that had lost their entire families and the timid smiles he was receiving from the young women. The older man reached out to put his hand on his son's shoulder, and murmured, "It'll be done, Xander. My word on it."

"Don't need your word, Giles. I trust you. And so will they." Xander nodded at the girls. As he felt the man by his side straighten up in pride, Xander turned to him, reaching out to grab Giles by his left wrist with his own left hand, producing a look of surprise on the older man's face as Xander leaned forward to whisper into his ear. "This is personal, okay? Just for you. Jenny's really proud of you, but she says it's okay for you to go on and find someone else, have a life with them, produce lots of little Gileses and put 'em all in tweed diapers --- well, that last was me --- but, um, be happy, Giles. You have a right, okay?"

Dazedly, Giles watched Xander step away and start walking, calling over his shoulder, "Talk with you later, G-man, okay?" The Englishman took a deep breath, and beginning to make plans in his mind, he headed towards the orphans' group now looking at him, all the time happily thinking, "They're going to give me a lot of grey hairs," while putting on his face a cool look of classic British reserve.

Xander himself headed towards another group. These reacted in various ways, not all welcoming, to his arriving presence. The man finally stopped in front of Faith, Anya, and Dawn.

The Boston-born Slayer herself had just been wondering what to do about her life, standing there while the former wish-granting demon and the Key had come along to stand near her. Faith had glanced at Dawn's reddened eyes, and with some effort, had restrained from rolling her own eyes. The Slayer had only tolerated Spike, instead of having him in her bed like a certain other Slayer, and now that vampire was dust in the wind, Faith's opinion of that event consisted of just two words: Good riddance.

As the guy who'd rid the world of a Billy Idol double had come closer, Faith had watched him with interest. Boytoy's all grown up. Wonder if there's any chance of him an' me? She glanced at Anya and past her at Wood talking with one of the new Slayers. Let's see how things go. He don't exactly spit when I show up, which is encouragin'. This caused Faith to bestow a dazzling smile upon Xander as he stopped and opened his mouth, making him stutter his first words.

"F--f--Faith, I want to give you something." At those words, his shovel shifted in his hand.

"Uh-huh!" sharply said Faith, quickly holding up her palm at Xander in a gesture of negation. "There ain't no way I wanna give up bein' a Slayer. Yeah, it's a pretty short life, even with the new Slayers, but it's a helluva better than what I had, back in Boston."

Xander shook his head, saying, "I didn't come here for that, Faith. You might be wrong about the short life, but we'll talk about that later." Faith and the other two looked puzzled at that, as Xander continued, "I also know you want to stay a Slayer. I can feel with this how much, anyway." At that, he shook the shovel, and then he lifted the handle to tap it against his front shirt pocket. With his left hand, he fumbled inside the pocket, finally drawing out of it a slip of paper that he offered to Faith.

A puzzled-looking Faith took the paper, unfolded it to look at it, and then her jaw dropped. She stood there swaying, her face totally blank, as Xander smirked and Dawn and Anya looked at each other with utter confusion. Letting in to her curiosity, Dawn stepped next to Faith to peer at the paper and her jaw dropped, except this woman managed to squeal, "Four hundred thousand dollars!???"

In a blur, Anya was there also, bending down to keenly examine the check gripped in Faith's hand, muttering, "Everything's in order, it's good, he took it out of his pocket…." Anya straightened up, giving the shovel in Xander's hand a truly covetous look.

At that moment, Faith ended her paralysis, blurting out to Xander, "What the fuck is this? If this is for what we did in that motel room, I gotta admit I ain't worth that much! For one night, anyways."

Anya's eyes narrowed over this, Dawn blushed, and Xander sighed with exasperation, carefully speaking to the brunette Slayer glowering at him, "It's your back pay as a Slayer, Faith. From the day you were Called in Boston, to right this minute. You should have been paid that, if the former Watchers' Council weren't such penny-pinching bastards, who lived in style while forcing you to stay at places where the cockroaches called up the Health Department to complain about the conditions!"

Faith's face twitched in amusement as the other two women stared at her with dawning horror. "Ya hit the bulls-eye there, sport. Yeah, they was that bad. But, for lessee…two grand a week, hell, I woulda stuck it out." She snorted, and carefully folded the check, putting it away deep in her back jeans pocket. Faith then looked up, catching Anya's eye on her ass, and smirking at the blonde, she drawled, "Ya wanna get your hands on that, I'll think 'bout it."

Anya looked outraged, and then a bit betrayed at Xander's and Dawn's snorts of mirth at the Slayer's double entendre.

A smiling Xander cleared his throat, gathering all of the women's attention. "Faith, there's something else, and yes, I'm going to use this." He held up the shovel, and went on despite Faith's suspicious face. "There's the minor matter of you being here. Faith, you broke out of prison. You're a fugitive."

Dawn and Anya blinked at being reminded of this, looking at the Slayer's now-thunderous face, until they wonderingly saw the woman sag, and say in a defeated tone, "Yeah, well, you're bein' such a goody-goody guy now, having the power of God in that thing there. I s'pose you want me to turn myself back in, with more time for escapin'?"

"That depends, Faith. Do you want to?" Xander's face was calm as he posed the question.

"What does wantin' haveta do with it? I didn't wanna go in the first place, but….oh, fuck. I ain't gonna fuckin' explain myself to you, anyways. Just call the fuckin' cops, already!"

Faith's outburst made Anya and Dawn turn pale, attracted the attention of others in the crowd, and didn't make Xander turn a hair. Instead, he held out the handle of his shovel towards Faith, who glared at it and hissed at the man, "I told ya, I ain't givin' up bein' a Slayer!"

"Would you give up being a fugitive?"

"Huh?" Faith looked pole-axed by this question, her confusion only increasing by Xander's grin and his next comments.

"Just touch this, Faith, and your record will be wiped clean. Someone else, who looked a lot like you, but had different features, fingerprints and anything else in your prison file, did everything you were accused, charged, and imprisoned for, and this person also made an escape attempt. The difference is that she didn't make it, Instead, she died."

Faith's mouth was hanging open, as she managed to say, "You can do that….yeah, I guess ya can, but….I ain't sure I can…." Faith looked down at the ground for a moment, and then her head snapped up and she looked seriously at Xander, hints of tears at the corners of her eyes. "Xander….you said yourself you couldn't change things. Well, things I done….I done 'em. Ain't nothin' can make up for 'em."

"Do you want to do them again?"

Faith looked physically ill at Xander's question, spitting out, "Fuck, no! I got too many fuckin' nightmares in my head without any more. What kinda fuckin' question was that?"

"A necessary one." At Faith's furious look, Xander gently went on, "Faith, you truly regret what you've done, and you've gone through atonement. You've paid."

Faith looked down again, muttering in a whisper Xander barely heard, "Not fuckin' enough. Never will be."

The shovel handle was held under the Slayer's eyes, as she heard a compassionate voice. "Then, let someone else decide if you've paid enough….for now. Touch it, Faith….and let your name be your guide."

For a few moments, the dark Slayer stared at the handle. Then, she slowly reached out for it….only to jerk back her hand.

Xander barely registered his bitter disappointment, until he watched Faith digging in her back pocket, to pull out something, and raise her face to look him full in the eye, and say, "First things first. The other me, the one who….died. Maybe she got people….people she hurt. You give 'em this." At that, Faith held out her check to Xander.

Dawn and Anya both gasped, as did others in the crowd now watching and listening. They all saw Xander give Faith an ear-to-ear grin before gently taking the slip of paper from her. Once this was done, Faith closed her eyes and reached out unerringly to grasp the handle.

As soon as she touched this, a pure white light appeared around the Slayer, and a clear chime rang throughout the entire cavern. An instant later, Faith was seen on her knees on the ground, shuddering.

A shocked Xander jerked away the shovel handle and hurriedly bent down to give Faith a hand up. He hadn't expected this. As Faith got to her feet, Xander let go and worriedly looked into her face. She had a seriously unfocused expression on her features, and then she blinked and life came back into her eyes.

Faith shook her head and said in a wondering tone, "What happened? I…I…never felt this good in my entire life. I…wanna skip through pastures, kiss babies, fly a kite….HEY!" At the last, Faith lifted a palm to the side of her head and pounded her hand against her skull a few times. "Geez, next thing you know, I was gonna bake a cake…." The Slayer shivered, and glared at the man before her, doubled over with mirth, only kept from falling down in hysterics by the shovel handle he was holding, the tool itself driven vertically into the ground.

Lifting his head up, tears of laughter trickling from his right eye, Xander managed to gasp, "Faith, I think you were….blessed."

Faith looked dumbfounded, and then she had to reluctantly nod, before her features changed again to curiosity. "So, how come I felt like I was in a fifties black-and-white television comedy? Ain't 'zactly my idea of bein' wished well by the Almighty, anyways."

"Best guess, I think someone with a capital "S" has an interesting sense of humor," chuckled Xander.

"Faith!" squeaked Dawn, pointing with a trembling finger at a certain part of the dark Slayer's body.

Everyone there looked at Faith's right wrist. A few seconds before, it had been bare, unlike where the remembrance band rested over her left wrist. Now, there was a duplicate band on the other wrist. An open-mouthed Faith lifted up her right wrist to more closely examine the band. A difference was noted at once by all there. The hands clasping each other on the right wrist were clearly masculine. Faith lifted her left wrist to hold it against the other arm, and it was clearly seen that the hands on the left band were feminine.

Anya asked curiously, "Faith, who's represented on your left wrist?"

"What? Oh, it's Linda, m' first Watcher. Really nice lady, lot better than anyone else I knew back then." A bit shyly, Faith lifted up her left wrist to touch the band against her left cheek for a moment, and faintly smiled. She put her left arm down again, and brought up the other arm to look at it again. An instant later, Faith said in a tight tone, "Xander, will ya walk 'round behind me?"

"Huh? What for?"

"Just do it, willya?"

With a baffled shrug, and watched by all, Xander stepped to stand behind Faith, who glowered at the band on her right wrist, and said in much-too-calm voice, "So, anybody got any theory on why I feel like Xander's standing in front a' me?"


	5. Chapter 5

"WHAT!" A chorus of voices all spoke that.

Xander dashed around Faith to stare at her band, finally raising his eye to meet Faith's suspicious glare and blurt out, "Why are you looking at me like that? I didn't do anything!"

"Uh, Xander," Dawn again contributed in a tone that he knew meant more bad news for him, "I think you should compare your right hand with what's on Faith's hand."

Xander blinked, and switching the shovel handle to his left hand, he held out his right hand over Faith's new band. To his horror, he, along with the others there saw the interlocked grasping right hands perfectly matched his own flesh-and-blood hand. Everyone there looked at the man, and saw him about to have a nervous breakdown.

"Yeowp!" Dawn gasped. Even Xander was diverted by the younger Summers sister's short cry of surprise. Unnoticed by anyone there, she had curiously laid her fingers onto Faith's right band. Still holding her fingers there, she jerkily said, "Strong, committed, funny, patient, kind, understanding, love…. Twinkies!?"

Anya promptly pushed her arm forward to put her own fingers past Dawn's to touch the band, and looking startled, words burst from her mouth, "Viking, imaginative, enduring, skillful, helping, caring, singing….tacos!?"

Faith jerked away her right wrist, and glaring at everybody, she folded her arms protectively across her chest. "Knock it off! This is mine, not yours!"

"Excuse me, ladies," politely said Xander. "Pardon me for a few moments, will you?" At that, he walked away from the crowd staring at him, heading to the center of the cavern, until he was about a hundred feet away. There he stopped, and raising the shovel over his head, he slammed the flat of that tool repeatedly against the ground as hard as he could, pausing between smashes to kick the ground, and also looking up to shake his right fist at the ceiling. All the Slayers there could hear him yelling, "Oh, good one! Ha, ha, you're such a kidder! I hope you get laryngitis and bunions!" He went back to hitting the ground with the shovel.

Almost everyone there watched Xander in wonder. Faith, on the other hand was busy smirking, and muttering, "Ya said someone had an interestin' sensa humor, boytoy. I think ya got attention paid to ya for that, ya idiot."

"Faith…." The Slayer looked up to see Dawn nervously staring at her, Anya standing at her side and also looking concerned. The younger Summers sister hesitantly said, "What….what do you feel with that…. thing?"

The dark Slayer's face suddenly smoothed into blankness, as her eyes narrowed, until her face relaxed and she said, "I feel….Xander."

Dawn sighed, and looked a little sad, until she again glanced at a surprised Slayer. "I want to…. apologize. You're going to want privacy when you talk it over with Xander, because, well, when I touched that, I felt what he feels about you." She blushed at seeing Faith's face become blank again. "Yeah, that. Um, also, I felt what he thought about Spike, and I was here to see how you both handled tough subjects, that he wouldn't have cared about at all. I just wish I didn't have to see Sp--- William come to an end. I think me and Xander can be friends again, but not for a while. Uh, is that okay?"

"Hey, little D," smiled Faith, as she made a rare display of public affection by stepping forward to hug Dawn. "Look, like ya thought, I can feel the guy over there havin' a temper tantrum, and I know what he thinks 'bout ya. Trust me, he ain't never gonna stop lovin' ya, like a li'l sister. 'Kay?"

"Thanks, Faith," sniffed Dawn, ending their hug and smiling while wiping a tear from her eye. She nodded at the dark Slayer before turning and walking towards her sister, still in the arms of Liam and both earnestly whispering to each other.

Faith turned to the remaining person there, a Swedish-born woman who had turned into a vengeance demon for a thousand years, becoming the patron saint of scorned women. Oops. Does this qualify? There was no clear answer to this in Anya's intent gaze.

It took all of the Easterner's courage to calmly meet Anya's eyes and open her mouth, "Look, yeah, I also felt everythin' how he feels 'bout you, and….and, he's really sorry."

Anya's set face changed into a rare expression of wistful sadness, as she spoke to a startled Faith. "I know. I do have some experience with forgiveness," she dryly finished. Faith watched Anya's contemplative face, listening to her musing, "But, what we had is over, and yes, like Dawn, I also felt what he thought about you through your band. I suppose….you deserve your chance. And so does he."

This caused a lowering of Faith's defenses, giving no time for her to react as Anya suddenly stepped right up to the Slayer, the blonde woman's eyes blazing as she hissed into the other woman's face, "If you ever hurt him more than he can bear, I'll track you down and perform the blood eagle on you!" At that, Anya spun away and stalked off, leaving a very bewildered Faith behind her.

Her mouth hanging open, Faith just stood there, until she finally shook her head. Glancing around, she noticed Robin Wood talking to Andrew, with the younger man rubbing his throat as he listened to the high school principal. Oh, yeah, gotta do somethin' 'bout that. Fuck. Might as well be now.

Faith walked over to the pair, neither noticing her until she abruptly spoke, "Guys, gotta talk to Wood here, private-like, right now." At that, she grabbed Wood's arm and pulled the astonished man with her as she began to walk way. Behind her, she heard a voice say meekly, "O-okay, f-Faith." There was also hurt in the voice.

Faith stopped short, and snapped to the man trying to keep his balance as she let go, "You stay there! Be right back!" She whirled around and stalked purposefully at Andrew, who now had a terrified expression on his face. Stopping right in front of the geek, she put both of her hands on his shoulders, ignoring his frightened flinch and looking deep into his now-wondering face, she said in her most intense voice, trying to communicate her utmost conviction, "Andy. You done good."

Smiling at his astonished expression, Faith leaned forward to bestow a gentle kiss on Andrew's right cheek. Straightening up, she spun away and walked back towards Wood, whose face now resembled a goldfish undergoing a most unexpected prostrate exam. Looking over her shoulder at the guy behind her, she saw Andrew just standing there, his face blank, and his right hand coming up to dazedly rub his right cheek.

"What was all that about?" blurted out Wood as a smirking Faith come up to him.

Promptly sobering, as she tried to figure how to start a conversation that would certainly include hurt as their relationship came to an end, Faith didn't answer him, only asking, "Hey, Wood, think you might know this. What's the blood eagle?"

A baffled man stared at the beautiful young woman standing before him, her face somber as she waited for him to talk. Shaking his head, Wood went into lecture-mode as he tried to understand what was going on, "Well, it's a punishment used by the residents of the north of Europe --- Denmark, Sweden, Norway and others --- during Viking times. When they got hold of their victim, they split the sternum, the vertical part of the ribcage down the front of your chest, pulled apart the ribcage, and yanked out the lungs and the heart, letting them flap out in the air, because the victim was still alive then….at least for a while. From the stories written then, they called it that because it evidently resembled the wings of an---"

"Yeah, an eagle. Got that. Boy, now that's a serious threat!" Faith shook her head, looking around at the crowd, evidently for someone there. She soon brought her attention back to the waiting man, taking a deep breath while saying, "Wood, I'm sorry 'bout this, but I gotta tell you somethin'---"

Apart from the crowd, a man stood by the upright shovel he had driven in to the ground, stiffly standing with clenched fists down at his sides, and muttering imprecations that were undoubtedly being received with good humor, since Xander wasn't being struck by multiple lightning bolts.

"Uh, Mr. Xander? Sir?" came quaveringly from behind him, uttered by someone unfamiliar with calling anyone that designation. Surprised, Xander turned around to face one of the youngest Potentials who was now one of the youngest Slayers. Promptly identifying her in his mind as Molly, Xander was puzzled by her oddly familiar feminine strained expression, as she hesitantly went on.

"Are---are we gonna stay here much longer?" The girl's face flamed bright red, as she embarrassedly squeaked out something she desperately hadn't wanted to say to a male. "Ireallyhavetogotothebathroom…."

Xander's own face suddenly showed concern, and grabbing up the shovel, he anxiously looked at Molly as he started to quickly step towards the crowd. "Can you hold it for just a minute or so? I have to say a few more things to the guys…."

A quick nod came from the young Slayer, though she called after the rapidly moving man, "Uh, could we not walk so fast?"

"Sorry!" Xander slowed down to let the gingerly striding girl catch up. He looked at the crowd now noticing the pair coming towards them, and waved to bring everyone together.

"Guys," he announced once he reached everyone, "we're gonna leave here and return to the school --- it's safe there now, all of the First Evil's guys were down here --- right after I say a couple of things." At this, Xander shot a quick glance at the girl next to him, who gave the man a brave nod.

"First, Giles---," The man who had been discussing things with a now excited bunch of girls, looked up, as Xander continued, "You've got a time limit setting up the new International Watchers' Council. You're going to have to start planning for more new Slayers six months from now." At the Englishman's astonished look, Xander held up his shovel and went on talking.

"What, you thought just the girls here were going to be the only Slayers? No way. Six months from now, about two hundred girls somewhere in a specific part of the world will start having Slayer dreams. Those who decide to become Slayers will be dreamed about by the current Slayers here, and they'll be able to tell us who and where the newest Slayers are. And I mean exactly. No more crappily vague dreams, where you have to pick one from Column "A" and one from Column "B"! Best of all, none of the bad guys will ever be able to trace the dreams to find the new Slayers, though these jerks will know who they are once they chose to become Slayers."

Xander paused to catch his breath, ignoring the looks of shock on all there and begin again while shaking his shovel. "This is going to help. I now can talk and understand any language in the world, which will help me in going to get the Slayers, wherever they are, and helping them decide if they want to join." The man now chuckled to himself, "And I finally get my road trip, going a lot further than Oxnard!"

The inner Scooby Gang smiled at this, though most of the crowd looked baffled. They all watched as Xander glanced around, saying, "Oh, by the way, it's not going to stop at the first two hundred. Six months after that, there'll be another two hundred, and so on, until the final number is reached and it'll stay that way through Slayers resignations, and um, deaths." The man looked a little sad about this, as he acknowledged that it would still be a very dangerous job for the warrior women.

Buffy managed to be the first one to ask the question in the minds of most of the crowd. "Xander, exactly how many Slayers are there going to be?"

"Oh, about four thousand."

At this, Xander paid no attention to the looks of shock on everyone; instead, he pursed his lips and began whistling a sprightly tune. Giggles came from all sorts of people there as these suddenly recognized the jingle. Even some of the youngest girls knew the melody, through the wonders of cable and the TVLand channel.

At the proper moment of the Green Acres theme, Xander rapped the shovel tip twice against the ground.

Instantly, everyone in the crowd was transported from the cavern deep in the earth to the main school corridor of Sunnydale High. Xander promptly shouted, "Down the corner and to your left!"

In an XX chromosome blur, a good part of the crowd vanished to find relief.

The remainder of the crowd moved in towards Xander, bent on asking questions about his last comments. Only when the man held up a hand, looking serious, did they back off to watch what happened next. Holding the shovel upright with both hands at the top of the handle, Xander bent his head and closed his eye, remaining that way for more than a minute. Just before the crowd's patience ended, he uttered a deep sigh, and sharply twisted the shovel to spin the blade once.

A rumble shook the entire school for a couple of seconds, as the crowd fought for their balance. The minor earthquake began to lose its force, and then it stopped.

"AAAAAHHHHH!!!"

Every Slayer there in the corridor collapsed to their knees, all of them clutching their heads and uttering howls of pain.

Those unaffected there, including Xander, stared in shock and horror, and rushed to the nearest suffering Slayer, and tried to help. Fortunately, the mystically-changed females seemed to shake off what had happened to them after a few seconds, and they all unsteadily regained their feet and tried to understand what had happened.

Faith, her eyes shut and supported by strong arms, groaned, and said, "I feel like my brain just took a major dump."

"I always knew you were really a refined girl, Faith."

A single eye opened to glower into another single eye, until Faith opened her other eye and her face changed in suspiction as she stared at Xander. Shaking herself loose at the moment the man sensibly let go, Faith yelled, "You did that, didn't you, you bastard!?"

Xander opened his mouth, and guiltily looking around while receiving numerous female glares, hung his head while muttering, "I didn't mean to do that! All I thought I was doing was…."

"What?" snarled Buffy, brushing back her disheveled hair and letting go of Liam supporting her.

The man holding the shovel signed, and finished, "….closing off the Hellmouth." Ignoring how everyone's mouths fell open, Xander desperately went on, looking at both Faith and Buffy as the closest Slayers there and clearly begging their forgiveness. "I didn't know it'd do that to you and the other Slayers!"

"They are linked to the Hellmouth, Xander, and any termination of that dimension nexus is certainly going to affect them," rebuked Giles bestowing his famous Watcher-glare. Which promptly crumbled, as the man actually realized what he'd said.

Willow said with shock, "No more Hellmouth? Ever?"

"Well, not this one, Wils," answered Xander, clear relief in his voice at not being promptly torn to pieces by an angry mob of Slayers. "I'm afraid this is a one-time deal, though. I was only able to do it 'cause the Boca del Infierno was tampered with, made to get bigger and otherwise influenced for over a century by, uh, well, you know." The man cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable as Faith shivered and lowered her eyes.

"Er. Quite," murmured Giles as he worriedly looked at the dark Slayer, the woman clearly trying not to think about her relationship with the Mayor.

"Yeah, uh, anyway, Hellmouths are part of the natural process of this world, like volcanoes, which means that…." Xander tightened his grip on his shovel and momentarily looked thoughtful as the others fell silent to watch him. He began speaking again, his eyes narrowing, "Well, a new Hellmouth's just opened up. In Cleveland."

"Cleveland?" Faith asked incredulously. "Why there?"

"It has to appear somewhere, Faith," shrugged Xander, secretly pleased the news had jarred the dark Slayer out of her funk. He went on, "Don't worry, it's not as big and bad as it was here. I think a couple of Watchers and Slayers stationed there will take care of whatever comes out of there, or gets attracted to it. Hey, Wood!"

"Yes?" looked up Robin from one of the new Slayers he was reassuring. His expression became stiff as he saw who had called his name.

Xander looked over at Faith, who had a rare sheepish expression on her face as she shrugged. Inwardly, he groaned, and tried to keep his face calm and unapologetic, as he suggested, "Would you like to be Head Watcher, commanding the Cleveland Slayers there? I think you'd do a great job." Well, at least that last sentence was his honest opinion and he'd managed to convey that.

All there saw Robin Wood clearly thinking it over. Finally, he slowly nodded, as he looked around. He did look intently at the Scooby Gang standing close together, and firmly said, "I do have a condition, though."

Xander promptly looked at Giles, and seeing this, Buffy, Liam, Willow, Dawn and Faith followed his example. The Englishman blinked, and realized his first decision as head of the International Watchers' Council was at hand. Warily, he asked the high-school principal who had now chosen a new job: "What precisely is your condition?"

Robin Wood, son of Nikki Wood, Slayer, said in a steady voice that carried through the entire corridor, "On the Cleveland Hellmouth, all vampires are to be destroyed on sight, regardless of any reason to the contrary."

Most of the people there winced at that statement, knowing the tragedies that had brought that on, and looked at Rupert Giles now making his decision on what was to be new policy for the Watchers and the Slayers. The Englishman opened his mouth to say, "Agreed, provide you agree to my condition: that you determine if that decree should continue to be enforced."

Wood's mouth twisted at the clever way Giles had forced the responsibility for any errors on his shoulders. "Okay, I can work with that." Nodding at his new boss, the man turned away to look around and start making plans on who would go with him to Cleveland.

Xander sighed with relief, watching how the former librarian had dealt with an awkward situation, only to be surprised by a poke in his ribs from Faith. Dodging away and rubbing his side, Xander looked curiously at the smirking woman. "What was that for, Faith?"

"Don't think you're gettin' off the hook, boytoy."

"Uh, over what?"

The Slayer rolled her eyes, "Over what happened a coupla minutes ago!" She smirked at his confusion, and leaned forward into his face to whisper, "Ya better hope everybody got to the john in time, for one thing." At that, she walked off snickering.

Xander paled, looking around the school corridor to see women rejoining the crowd, some of these with worried and confused looks that changed to fury when receiving whispers in their ears and gestures at Xander. Kennedy was one of these.

Edging over to an amused Willow, he confided, "This is gonna cost me serious make-up chocolate offerings, isn't it, Wils?"

The redhead woman gazed up at the corridor ceiling, considering this, and suggested, "Why don't you just buy the entire contents of a See's Candy shop and hand it over, accompanied with extreme groveling?"

Xander Harris beamed at Willow Rosenberg. "You are my bestest bud!"


	6. Chapter 6

Some time later, Faith wandered over to where Xander was standing in the main lobby of the school while he was carefully studying the room, looking around intently. "Whatcha doin', shovel-guy?"

His lips quirking, Xander shifted the shovel resting on his right shoulder and glanced over Faith's head at the small group standing and talking to each other in the school corridor. This consisted of the core Scooby Gang: Buffy, Giles, Dawn, Liam, and Willow. All of the others who had been with them, the former Potentials who were now Slayers or normal humans, Wood, Andrew, and Anya had left the school to go back to their homes or Buffy's house to eat, clean up, fall asleep, or start packing before their return to their original homes or to their new residences, wherever that might be.

Xander felt a pang over one certain person. Before she had left the school, Anya had sought him out, to place a finger on his lips for silence before kissing him gently on his left cheek. Stepping back, she had then used that same finger to trace around the edge of his eyepatch, while whispering "Mimisbrunnr."

Despite all his best slacker efforts, some knowledge had stayed in Xander's mind from all the Scooby Gang research parties trying to find information about the current Big Bad. It also helped that the shovel had promptly translated Anya's word into "Mimir's well."

In Norse legend, Odin, allfather of the gods, went to a renowed mystical well guarded and protected by a mysterious being known as Mimir, and drank from it, gaining immeasurable wisdom from the magical water. All it cost Odin to accomplish this was the payment of an eye, which was promptly taken from him.

Anya had looked at Xander long enough to know he understood what she meant, before giving a last sad smile to him and then striding off without a single look back, his last glipse of Aud of Sjornjost her blonde hair and the straight back of a princess.

Whatever she had done and wherever she would go, Xander Harris wished her well.

Blinking his remaining eye, Xander looked down to where Faith was patiently watching him. A little astonished she had gone so long without a single smart-ass remark or crude comment, he finally got around to answering her question.

"I'm just looking at what I helped build, 'cause it's gonna be the last time."

"You ain't ever comin' back here?" questioned Faith.

Xander snorted. "Not just here, the school. Sunnydale."

"What? I mean, you was born here, right? Uh, also, what 'bout your folks?"

Xander rolled his eye. "I don't exactly have any warm, fuzzy feelings for this place, even if the Hellmouth is gone. Too much….happened here. Well, yeah, some good things, but….no. I'm not coming back."

He walked over to a totally empty floor-standing display case against a wall, and gestured at it, grimacing at the same time. "Trophy case for school sports. Not that ol' Sunnydale High was ever a champion all that often. Too many students got eaten, and the trophies earned anyway were pretty much destroyed, when, uh, the first school…." He trailed off, determinely studying the empty trophy case while Faith winced.

Clearing his throat, Xander continued, "Regarding my folks….well, a few weeks back, when things really started getting crazy, I went over to their apartment and found out they'd skipped town. Without telling me, leaving any forwarding address, and owing three month's back rent. I paid it, and….no word from them since. I'm sure of one thing, though. Wherever they are, there's also alcoholic beverages."

Faith watched with an aching heart as Xander's shoulders slumped after that too-calm monologue. He remained still staring into the trophy case as she came up beside him and also looked into it. This gave them the excuse of pretending to ignore their reflections in the glass of the case.

Faith casually asked, watching Xander's reflection, "What 'bout the others? Do….you think they're gonna stay or leave?"

"Giles, Willow, Kennedy, most of the Slayers, some of the Potentials, and the Orphan's Group are going to England, setting up the new Watchers' Council. Giles won't ever come back. Too many bad memories, especially since Jenny's clan took her body away. Willow, probably not. Like me, not exactly a fun life here. If she ever visits her parents, which isn't likely, she'll leave as fast as possible.

"Wood, Andrew, and some of the Slayers and also some of the Potentials are going to Cleveland to set up a Slayers House. Andrew's the only Sunnydale native, and he's glad to get away from here. He'll have a better life in Cleveland, as long as he cuts down on the geek references.

"Buffy and Dawn are going with Liam, for a few weeks at least. He has to….deal with what's happened to him, and how that might change what his little group does there, fighting the good fight. A Slayer will certainly help, at least for a while. It'll be up to those two to plan their life together. Dawnstar, she might go to college in L.A., or apply to Oxford or Cambridge and help out the new Council. She's got an entire life away from here. I think, once in a while, they might come back….to visit their mom's grave."

Xander fell silent then, without mentioning another name. Faith watched the man's reflection in the glass, observing how he was staring blankly into the trophy case. Without thinking about it, her right hand moved away from her side, to bump against Xander's left hand….and then clasped it. For a few seconds, her heart was hammering….until her hand was squeezed back.

Both of them just stood there for a while, holding hands while pretending to look in to the case, but in reality watching each other's reflections. Finally, Faith said what had been in her mind in the first place when she had sought out Xander. "So…what're you gonna do? I mean, goin' to find the new Slayers eventually, yeah, I got that, but….what 'bout right now?"

Xander gently squeezed her hand again, and said thoughtfully, "Well, I'll be going to L.A. also with the Buffster, Dawnikins and Liveboy for a few days. From what I've heard, it's not like they don't have any spare bedrooms in that hotel of theirs. Anyway, when I'm there, I have to clean up another mess of the Powers That Be, involving Cordelia." He shifted the shovel on his right shoulder, and continued. "This will cure those monster headaches she's been having during her prophecies. Assholes." The last word was muttered by Xander.

Faith smiled at the man's outrage on what had happended to his former girlfriend, and rubbed her right thumb over the back of Xander's left hand. A gentle reminder, perhaps, to keep in his mind the word 'former' when he again met Queen C. She listened with interest as Xander went on, "After that's done, I'm gonna do what I've wanted to do for years. I'm gonna get a classic car."

The dark Slayer now glanced over with total incredulity at Xander. The last time she had been this close to a male and had seen and heard that exact look and sound of total lust from that person, Faith had been lying down on her back on a bed, stark naked except for wearing a scoop each of vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry ice cream, a whole banana, thirty seconds' application of spray-on whipped cream, a tablespoon of chopped walnut sprinkles, and a single maraschino cherry.

In the school, Faith momentarily brooded that the walnut sprinkles had been a minor error. She'd spent the next day digging diverse nut pieces out of various crevices. Her attention was brought back by a worshipping chant of, "Late-sixties Ford Mustang….bucket seats….V8 engine….woodgrain trim.…"

Faith gave serious thought to giving Xander a good whack upside his head before he drowned in his drool. Instead, she cleared her throat and boldly said, "I'm callin' control of the radio, boytoy."

There was a dead silence.

Faith actually had a moment of sheer terror as she'd thought she'd once again gone too far. Then, a distant voice from the man on her right spoke, "You get it half the day, mornings or afternoons, to be agreed to later. What isn't negotiable is the following: no Celine Dion, Michael Bolton, or Barry Manilow."

"Fair 'nuff. But we settle one thing right now: any country has to include Patsy, Johnny, and Willie 'fore the eighties."

"Deal."

The two members of the Scooby Gang now turned to face each other and performed a solemn handshake to seal the contract.

A throat was cleared, in the way only an upper-class Englishman can manage to deliver the sound of a polite announcement of their presence while grinding into the faces of colonial peasantry the existence of over a millennia of history that produced Chaucer, Shakespeare, Milton, the Magna Charta, Parliament, the Industrial Revolution, railroads, steamships, Charles Dickens, going over the top, Winston Churchill, the Beatles, and the Benny Hill show. Rupert Giles managed to do all this while polishing his glasses.

"Hey, G-man."

A roll of the man's eyes was made before he put his glasses back on, and looked expectantly at the pair. Giles blandly ignored the fact that Xander Harris and Faith Lehane were holding hands, only calmly asking, "Are we ready to leave now?"

Xander looked full into the face of Faith, seeing the last hint of uncertainty deep in her eyes, and forever dispersed it with the firm answer of, "Yeah, we are."

For the last time, the Scooby Gang walked down the corridors of Sunnydale High, in a line that included Faith, Xander, Willow, Giles, Dawn, Buffy and Liam. No one even paused as they passed through the main doors, with only a final cut-off conversation being heard.

"Hey, Liam, a word of advice. Regarding Wolfram and Hart: don't."

"What? I know about them, Xander, but why---"

The door closed after them.

For several minutes, there was silence throughout the building, as the last traces of the Hellmouth dissipated, to finally leave the place of education existing as only a slightly less terrifying American high school.

Out of nowhere, an elderly male human's cracked voice sang in the corridors of Sunnydale High:

"Matchmaker, matchmaker,

Make me a match,

Find me a find,

Catch me a catch,

Matchmaker, matchmaker,

Look through your book,

And make me a perfect match."

The song ended, and silence once again embraced the school, until the voice delivered one last line in an extremely happy tone.

"Am I good, or what?"

*********************************************************************************************************************************

Disclaimers and Author's Notes:

All things "Oh, God!" and Buffy the Vampire Slayer characters, plus "Hard Hearted Hannah" and "Matchmaker, Matchmaker", belong to their original owners.

'Dogma' first came out November 12, 1999. 'Bruce Almighty' was released in general circulation on May 23, 2003. 'Chosen' appeared on May 20, 2003. By the power vested in my fingers writing this, I ordain the latter movie opened a couple of weeks earlier in the Buffyverse. So there.

Re: "Junior Woodchucks' Oath, Exalted Hightail, Chevalier of the Honor Guard, Rear Admiral of the Arctic Snows, fellow Commandant of the Hightails' Hall of Heroes" --- See Carl Barks. The Master.

As far as I know, there's nothing given in the canon for the last names of Spike and Angel. It's been established for the younger, blonde vampire that his first name is William. According to my searching, there's the possibility his last name is Pratt, which is good enough for me, especially since Spike would have taken a bath in holy water before letting anyone know about it. As for the latter vampire, nothing is given for his family name, so I picked a good Irish name of 'Ryan', which means 'kingly'. No way he would turn that down. (Liam means 'helmeted'.)

For the Gaelic curses, here's the translations, given in the order they were said:

May the devil eat your head!

May the hounds of hell gnaw at your manly part!

May the malevolent hedgehogs soil your yellow snack!

(There's no specific name in Gaelic for Twinkies.)


End file.
